Behind the Mask (72 page)

“In other words, what information am I aware of that could put
me
in front of a firing squad if it were discovered that I’d not reported it?”

Abbi looked at him sharply, terrified on his behalf as she considered a possibility that had never occurred to her. He added firmly, “I know that Cameron is alive and well, and he boldly declares his belief that Nikolaus is guilty of treason, and he is apparently intent on doing something about it.”

Abbi’s trembling increased and her heart threatened to stop beating. Her voice quavered as she said, “But surely that is only hearsay and gossip. How can you
know
that he—”

“Because he
told
me, Abbi.”

“You
spoke
with him?” she breathed.

“Yes, I spoke with him. I had no intention of telling you, but maybe it’s better that you know. I suppose that gives us both marvelous incentive to keep each other’s secrets.”

“Will
you keep my secret, Lance?”

“I would do anything to protect you, Abbi,
anything!”

“And Cameron?”

He looked away. “Cameron needs to be very careful. He’s playing a dangerous game.”

“It will all be over in a few days, Lance. Surely you can look the other way for a few more days, and give him the opportunity to prove his innocence, and take back the life he lost.”

Lance’s eyes widened at her words.

“What?” she demanded.

“Abbi, if Cameron takes back the life he lost, your life and mine will never be the same. I’m still trying to decide if that’s good or bad.” He sighed loudly while her heart quickened anew, wondering at a depth she’d never bothered to wonder before, what she had married herself into.

“I can’t make any promises in regard to Cameron,” he said. “I can only do the best I can do.”

Before Abbi could question him, the carriage came to a halt. She wiped her face and smoothed her hair, wondering how she was ever going to remain composed in public with the turmoil of thoughts roiling inside her. Lance took her hand and she felt grateful for the evidence of his genuine concern as he asked, “Will you be all right?” In spite of all that had been said, and the horrid complications mixed into their relationship, it was evident the trust and care between them had not diminished. How could she not be grateful for that? What would she ever do without him? How could she ever tell him what it meant to know that he would honor her above his duty to king and country? She could only pray that he would not feel compelled, for any reason, to do anything that would bring harm to Cameron.

Abbi nodded and resigned herself to putting on a brave face. She was grateful to feel his strong hand helping her from the carriage, and the way he kept hold of her as they walked toward the door of the home where they would be dining. He stopped before ringing the bell and turned to face her. “You mustn’t worry, Abbi. Forgive me if I’ve said anything to upset you. Let’s just . . . do our best to set all of that aside and enjoy the evening.”

She nodded but couldn’t even force a smile. He kissed her brow and squeezed her hands, and she tried to drive her thoughts away from the precarious reality of her life—and Cameron’s.

Once inside, Lance’s mood brightened considerably, even though she felt certain he was simply doing better than her at pretending that all was well. She managed to be gracious and pleasant as he introduced her to the group of friends he occasionally socialized with, most of whom were high-ranking officers of the Guard and their wives. Everyone was warm and polite, but Abbi felt uncomfortable with the formality of such a social gathering. She sensed that Lance was comfortable in the respect that he’d grown up among such events, but he seemed indifferent to the decorum. He did well at playing the prospective groom as congratulations were offered on their forthcoming marriage, and he was teased by these men he worked with about finally ending his bachelorhood. Lance took it all in with good-natured grace, possessively keeping Abbi’s hand in his, occasionally kissing her cheek or pressing her fingers to his lips. Abbi managed to follow his example and appear relaxed and in love, but she knew that he sensed the underlying tension she was feeling. More than once he whispered in her ear that she was doing great, and everything would be all right. She wanted to believe him.

Through the brief carriage ride to the opera house, Abbi felt compelled to simply say, “Thank you, Lance.”

“For what?” he asked, kissing her hand.

“For holding me together back there. In spite of the circumstances, you stand by me so graciously. I can’t imagine why you do it, but I’m grateful.”

“Caring for you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done, Abbi . . . in spite of the circumstances.” A moment later he asked, “Are you all right? If you prefer, I could take you home and—”

“No, I’m fine,” she said, certain that being at home pacing the floor, wondering what Cameron might be up to, would be far worse than pretending to be engaged to Lance. She was grateful once again for the way she had come to feel so comfortable with him, and to realize that the tension of their situation had not created awkwardness between them. He didn’t have to say anything at all for her to know that he was her ally. She could only hope that in the end, he would see fit to be Cameron’s as well.

When they arrived at the theater and found their seats, Abbi was pleased to realize they were sitting in the same box with Nikolaus and his sisters—well, at least she was pleased to see his sisters, and managed to politely avoid conversing with Nikolaus. Yet how could she not look at him and consider the context under which his name had come up in the carriage?
If he knew what I know, your husband would be arrested tonight and executed at dawn—no questions asked
.

Abbi forced such horrific thoughts away and settled comfortably into her seat with Lance at her side. There were some empty seats around them that were never occupied, while the rest of the theater filled up completely. She realized then that the empty seats surrounding the royal family had not been accidental. The officers of the Guard posted outside the box added to the sense of deference and protection that followed them. Abbi pondered the loftiness of Lance’s position, when
he
of all people would be sitting with
the
family of Horstberg. Abbi enjoyed visiting with Magda and Lena, mostly about the wedding, and the distraction it was from her worries. Since Lena was planning a wedding as well, they shared details of their gowns and the flowers that would be used. Lance talked quietly with Nikolaus, occasionally smiling toward Abbi, until the show began. He put his arm around her and whispered, “How are you feeling, my dear?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” she said, trying to be positive. “And you?”

He laughed softly. “I’m not pregnant, Abbi. For that reason I feel great.”

Abbi nudged him in response to his teasing, and they turned their attention to the show. It had barely begun when Nikolaus slipped out and didn’t return. Abbi’s mind wandered again through her conversation with Lance—and its implications—more than she focused on the show. But it was still better than being at home, stewing and wondering.

During intermission the back curtain of the box was opened and people came and went freely, exchanging greetings and stopping to visit. Abbi mostly observed all of the attention the duke’s sisters were getting from people who seemed quite in awe of them, though it wasn’t much more than the attention Lance received from single ladies.

When the second half was about to begin and the curtain was closed behind them, Abbi whispered to Lance, “You certainly don’t have any trouble drawing female admirers.”

“It’s the uniform,” he said humbly.

Abbi had to say, “No, I think it’s more than that.”

Lance looked into her eyes, smiling wryly. “Then, perhaps if your husband makes it to the wedding alive, there will still be a chance for me, eh?”

Abbi felt startled by his comment and didn’t know how to react. But she found something genuinely kind in his eyes. “Oh, I’m absolutely certain that eventually you will find someone who will love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

He silently took in the comment, then squeezed her hand before he turned his attention to the stage as the lights went down.

During the final act, Nikolaus slipped into a seat just behind Abbi. He tapped Lance on the shoulder and motioned for him to step back a row and sit beside him. “Excuse me,” Lance whispered to Abbi before he joined Nikolaus. She made no effort to listen to their conversation, but she could hear their whispering clearly. Nikolaus told Lance that he would be leaving tonight instead of tomorrow, and he didn’t know if he’d make it back for the wedding or not. He gave him some instructions concerning matters that made no sense, and then said with a wicked chuckle, “Don’t be so concerned with Abbi that you neglect your duties, now.”

“You ought to talk,” Lance replied dryly. “If we could keep your mind off of the ladies’ skirts for one day it would be a miracle.”

Nikolaus only chuckled as if he agreed. The thought struck a little too close to home for Abbi, but she forced memories of her own encounter with Nikolaus away.

“Not to worry,” Lance went on. “I have everything well delegated.”

“I’m not worried,” Nikolaus said. “If anything, you could stand to ease up a little.”

There was silence for a few minutes until Lance said, “You had Dwight Elting arrested.” He didn’t sound pleased.

“That’s right,” Nikolaus stated, their conversation continuing in a whisper.

“What was he guilty of—beyond accusing you of getting his daughter pregnant?”

Abbi tried to force herself to watch what was happening on stage. She wasn’t certain she wanted to hear this. The reality of what Horstberg’s ruler was like actually sickened her. But the opera made no sense to her, and the men’s voices were too close to her ears. It was evident that neither of them cared if she heard. Did they think she was too naive to care?

“He accused me
publicly,”
Nikolaus corrected, his tone reeking of arrogance. “He had the gall to insist that I support the child. If I supported every illegitimate child that could lay any claim to me, valid or not, we’d have to raise taxes.” He laughed as if it were terribly amusing. Abbi heard Lance breathe out a sigh laced with disgust.

“What are you going to do with him?” Lance asked.

“I haven’t decided yet. We’ll deal with that when I get back.”

“You know, Nik,” Lance said firmly, “I’ve done my best to stand back and allow you to do what you want; heaven knows you will whether I approve or not. But you can’t lock up or execute every man who doesn’t agree with you.”

“Are you attempting to give me advice?” Nikolaus’s voice was astonished. Apparently Lance speaking to him that way was not common.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing.” Lance sounded angry. He was the Captain of the Guard now, and Abbi felt proud of him for standing up to Nikolaus. “You pay me to keep this country safe and strong. I can’t keep doing it under these circumstances.”

Now Nikolaus sounded angry. “You
will
do it under these circumstances, or I will find someone who will. You see,
Captain,”
he spoke the title with sarcasm, “I
can
lock up or execute anyone I don’t agree with. So you take some advice. You’d do well to keep agreeing with me.”

Nikolaus slipped out of the box. Abbi glanced briefly over her shoulder to see Lance looking dazed. She felt compassion on his behalf and impulsively moved to take the seat Nikolaus had just left. She took Lance’s hand, bringing him out of a stupor.

“Forgive me, but . . . I couldn’t help overhearing.” He didn’t look alarmed or concerned. “Are you all right?” she whispered close to his ear.

Lance smiled at her then pressed a kiss to her hand. “I will be, but . . . thank you for asking.”

When the opera ended, Magda and Lena visited with them for a few minutes, making them promise to come to the castle for dinner when they got back from the honeymoon. Abbi appreciated their invitation, but the thought of honeymooning with Lance made her a little queasy. In the carriage on the way home, Lance was more somber than usual. “Are your thoughts still with Nikolaus?” she asked.

Lance looked up at her, surprised. “You’re a perceptive woman, Abbi.” Then he sighed. “Yes, I’m afraid they are.”

Abbi watched him closely, again feeling compassion for his situation. She didn’t want to marry him, but she couldn’t deny the friendship they’d developed. And how could it not occur to him that Nikolaus had come up in their conversation earlier?

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

“There’s little to say, really. I’m just a little . . . astounded by his attitude. I mean . . . he was always somewhat of a womanizer, and always arrogant. He was just like his father—raised to be a king. We’ve been friends since we were small children, and I’ve usually been able to look past his faults and enjoy his company. But more and more, I just can’t seem to do it. Since he inherited this position, his character has steadily declined.”

When he said nothing more, Abbi took his hand. “As long you do your best to stand up for what you know is right, that’s all you can do.” Once again she heard implications that tied into their conversation about Cameron, and she prayed that Lance would not consider her a hypocrite while she was
aiding and harboring a fugitive.

“Yes, I’ve told myself that,” he said, seeming focused only on the issue at hand. “But more and more I feel manipulated into carrying out his orders—orders that I don’t agree with. I wonder sometimes if I’m man enough to hold this position.”

Abbi said with complete honesty, “You are more of a man than Nikolaus du Woernig ever dreamed of being.”

Lance chuckled softly. “You are too kind, really. But the fact stands: Nikolaus is the leader of this nation. As Captain of the Guard, I have always tried to uphold what I believe is right, but at times I feel my hands are tied.” His eyes became distant and Abbi couldn’t help wondering if some degree of his motivation in aiding her had to do with the point that he
did
disagree with Nikolaus. She felt as if Lance had read her mind when he went on to say, “I fear that Nikolaus may end up undoing himself, and I don’t want to be undone with him. I’ve honestly considered resigning. I know I’m qualified for the position, but I wonder if it was wrong for Nikolaus to put me here. Perhaps our personal association isn’t conducive to a good working relationship.”